


i will not cave under you (for my heart is infinity blessed)

by bloodaccusedstones



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, There's some christmas fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 15:35:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2856086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodaccusedstones/pseuds/bloodaccusedstones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You know that she thinks she is all dark and sharp razor blades, but when she is wrapped all over and in you, you don’t know how she can believe that. You know that her demons are in her lungs, drowning her, and she told you that sometimes she wants to burn the beds to see if they’ll burn with them. She looked so painfully honest, and you kissed her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i will not cave under you (for my heart is infinity blessed)

///

You hear the door slam and grumbling coming from behind you. You recognize the voice as Carmilla’s and a grin spreads across your face. You laugh lightly when you hear her grunting. You swing around in your chair and see her standing in front of the wardrobe, her clothes, beanie included, are soaking wet. Water is dripping from her nose and the tips of her hair, creating a puddle around her boot covered feet.

You get out of your seat and take her bag from her, put it on her bed, and start untying her shoes. She’s mumbling something about idiots and snowball fights, so you guess that her got trapped in the cross hairs of a snowball fight and the thought makes you chuckle. You slip off her boots and place them next to the wardrobe. You stand and help her unbutton her shirt, and you can’t help but notice the dark circles under her eyes. She’s pale, she always is (she’s technically dead), but she’s paler than usual, and the circles under her eyes are so dark they look like bruises.

You push the shirt off her shoulders and only then do you notice how violently she’s shaking. You feel stupid for not noticing sooner, she’s been pelted by snow, which has melted by now, of course she’s going to be cold. You grab her hand and she’s so tired, you practically drag her towards the bathroom. When she stumbles over her feet while following you, you don’t laugh (the fall into the pit shattered her leg, and while she’s still alive, her left leg didn’t heal correctly. You hope she didn’t wrench it out of place again). You grab her arm to help her balance herself, then start back towards the bathroom, but slower.

She’s exhausted. You know why, but you don’t.

You always crawl into your bed together at night, with the yellow pillow, of course. It’s been happening ever since Danny carried Carmilla’s limp, bloody body back to you. You guess she can’t sleep without the guarantee that you’re right next to her, and frankly, you need the reassurance yourself. You think she has nightmares most nights. Very, very bad ones. You’ll fall asleep wrapped in her arms and wake up alone. She usually drags herself back to your dorm right as you’re leaving for class, and you’ve learned that it’s best not to ask her where she’s been. She never gets a chance to sleep because now she has morning classes. She never gets sleep, and you never stop worrying about her.

///

You finally make it to the bathroom and turn the shower dial to hot. She’s shaking and looks so pale you’re worried. She’s practically transparent.

Her leather pants are still on, so you unbutton them and, with some difficulty, slip them off her thighs and pull her feet through them, taking her underwear with the pants. You stand up and she’s leaning into you. You know that she probably won't be able to stand up in the shower and you won't be able to hold her up the entire time. You wrap your arms around her back and she holds onto your elbows loosely. Somehow, you manage to slip her bra off with her leaning on you. You shuffle over to the tub, and she gets the point because she steps into the tub. You push down on her shoulders and she sits in the tub under the hot spray of the water, groaning when the water blasts against her back. She pulls her legs up, wraps her arms around them, rests her head on her knees, and sighs.

You suddenly feel uncomfortable (you wanted to undress her before, but this wasn’t the situation you had in mind) so you walk back into the room and clean up the mess Carmilla had dragged in with her.

(You snort, because Carmilla had carried this mess home, and you thought, “Look what the cat dragged in.”)

You clean up quickly, so you head back into the bathroom. You hover in the doorway and stare at her back. She’s so pale and her skin is so beautiful; you could stare at her for hours and never become bored. You notice that her back has small nicks and scars splattered all over it, and you saw a thick scar running down the length of her torso when you were unbuttoning her shirt and pants. You feel something break inside of you; she’s so beautiful and so, so kind when her walls are down, and no one should’ve hurt her.

No one should’ve grounded her bones into dust and left her lost in the wind.

///

You’re slipping a pair of your flannel bottoms onto Carmilla’s legs and she’s laying down on your bed. You’re sure she’s sleeping, so when the pants rest on her hips you look at her face and yep, she’s out. You situate her so she’s laying longways and her legs aren't hanging off the bed. You turn off the lights, leave the owl lamp on (you learned that Carmilla likes at least one light on) and crawl into bed next to Carmilla.

She groans and shifts so she’s leaning towards you. You glue your front to her side, rest your head on her shoulder and lay your arm across her torso. You slip your hand under her shirt and rest in on her stomach. You rub your fingers over that scar and you want to ask her about it, but if someone asked you about one of yours you’d be very angry, and this is Carmilla, and you know that wouldn't end well.

You hope she’s so tired that she won’t wake up in the middle of the night.

She doesn’t.

///

She wakes up with a groan and stretches. After she licks her lips, she looks groggily towards you. She smiles and she’s still so sleepy that one of her eyes are only cracked about halfway open.

“Hey.” She grumbles, her voice scratchy.

“Hey. Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” You rub your middle finger over her scar and watch her stiffen, then relax. You smile and she looks tired and confused and happy, so you lean over and kiss her sweetly. She pulls at your shirt and you shake your head. She huffs and pulls a bit harder and you chuckle. “I’ve got to get to class.”

“Aw shit!” She starts to lean up and you push her back into the bed. “Cupcake, I have clas-”

“No you don’t. I called and said you were sick.”

“What? I’m not sick.”

“You’re exhausted. Get some sleep.” You crawl out of bed and she nods, then rolls over so her back is to you. You dress quickly and you’re about to head out when you remember something. You lay an empty glass next to the mini fridge for Carmilla’s blood and move back over to her. She sleeping again with her mouth open slightly. You smile and leave for class, making sure to close the door quietly behind you.

///

 _“Carmilla!”_ You screech because, are you _serious_? Carmilla just shoved snow down your back, and now you’re freezing and she’s cackling. To say you’re upset would be the biggest understatement of your life. You shove her, lightly because her leg has been bothering her, but she nearly falls over from laughing.

She ends up leaning against a tree, bent over with her hands on her knees, crying from laughing so hard. You stand a little ways off from her. She probably thinks that you’re angry with her, and you are upset. You’re mainly happy because Carmilla’s laughing and playing and looking very healthy and _eighteen_ , and you never want to forget what she looks like in these moments.

She walks up to you and she’s still grinning so you huff, trying to act annoyed but you’re really trying to hide a smile. She tosses her arm around your shoulder and you wrap one of yours around her back.

“When we get back home, I’ll make you all the hot chocolate you want.” She whispers in your ear, and you squeeze her side and nod quickly. She laughs and you watch her. You burn the memory into your head so you can replay this moment over and over again.

///

Carmilla has her arm and head resting on your stomach. You run your hand through her hair; it’s silky and thick and beautiful. You’ve been awake all night and so when Carmilla had a nightmare, you knew.

(She was shaking and crying and asking someone to spare her, then for someone to kill her, and you know there will be nothing as heartbreaking as hearing her sobs. You shook her awake, whispered her name when she started crying softly in your arms.)

(She told you about her death, her first death (she’s died three times; once when she was eighteen, once in the coffin, once in the Light). Her murderer split her stomach in two, made it weep red tears that created rivers. She traced her scar when she told you this, and now you know, but you wished you didn't (her pain is something you could never fully understand) and you’re glad you do.)

She hasn’t fallen back asleep and neither have you. You know you won’t be able to sleep tonight. You understand why she is so tired all the time; if you had to carry around the weight of centuries of pain and death and murder and hate, you’d be exhausted, too. You hate what’s been done to her and you know that she has many more dark stories. She might not tell you all of them, but you hope she realizes that her dark edges don’t dim the light that is her. She is light inside, you’ve seen it.

(She had said that she wasn’t the person she used to be. You told her that no one is who they once were; everyone changes because of things that happen. She just looked at you and you touched your foreheads together. She kissed your nose and you tangled your legs together.)

You know that she thinks she is all dark and sharp razor blades, but when she is wrapped all over and in you, you don’t know how she can believe that. You know that her demons are in her lungs, drowning her, and she told you that sometimes she wants to burn the beds to see if they’ll burn with them. She looked so painfully honest, and you kissed her.

///

“You’re thinking too loud, Liebling.” She whispers and looks at you. You grin.

“Says the broody one.” She hums and you rub up and down her arm.

She lifts her head and kisses you. You kiss her softly, promising her that her past will not scare you away.

You kiss her til the morning light spills in through the curtains.

///

You stand in the doorway in shock.

Carmilla is standing between the beds, wearing a sweater with a Christmas tree on it, looking apprehensive. LaF is standing with Perry, who was taking out a packet of blood from the fridge before she noticed you were standing there, and cookies are everywhere. Danny is holding a staple gun and standing in the bathroom doorway, Christmas light hanging above her head. All of them are motionless and staring at you.

There’s a small tree casually sitting on your desk, all lit and shining. There’s lights strung everywhere and Christmas themed decorations on the walls. You notice that everyone is wearing an ugly Christmas sweater.

“Uh, Carm?”

“You said you were going to be late getting home today.” She groans and you laugh, because she did this for you and somehow dragged Danny, LaF and Perry to help her. You're smiling at her and the others take this as a good sign and go back to what they were doing. Carmilla limps over to you and you pull her into a kiss.

“Why?” You ask, smiling.

“You were sad that you wouldn’t be able to go home for Christmas.” She says, and you kiss her again. You know she doesn’t really enjoy Christmas but she did this for you, and that’s the greatest gift anyone could give you.

Carmilla pulls you into the room and Perry hands Carmilla a glass of blood while Danny gives you a hug. LaF hands everyone a cup of cocoa and you all sit on the beds. You all trade stories and laugh about good times, and Carmilla is leaning into you, and you’ve never loved someone as much as you love her.

You notice that Carmilla has been staring at you, so you look at her. Her hair is falling around her shoulders and she is smiling so gently. You kiss her and put your hand on hers. She flips her hands so your palms are touching. Her hands are rough and soft at the same time; she has destroyed cities and built them.

You intertwine your fingers together and when you look up at her, you’ve never seen her so happy.


End file.
